


Feverish

by gAAmAtsU16



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, My First Work in This Fandom, Sickfic, Volleyball Dorks in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gAAmAtsU16/pseuds/gAAmAtsU16
Summary: Akaashi gets sick during practice. Bokuto makes it his priority to make him as comfortable as he can...manage that is.





	Feverish

The whistle startled Akaashi.

“Net in.” Said Yukie, the team’s 3rd year female manager who was acting as referee for that day’s practice.

Akaashi blinked. A net in, he thought disbelievingly, on my first serve.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind.” Bokuto chirped on the other side of the net. He was on the other team but is being supportive in spite of that. He gave him a thumbs-up.

Akaashi bowed in apology. He was positive he did that serve justice but maybe he had miscalculated on the force of his swing. Or the net really looked like its wobbling. Seeing as that seemed ridiculous, he dismisses the idea.

However, the uncertainty returns on the second set. Throughout the first, Akaashi seemed to be walking in tar, his legs were heavy and his vision— was everything supposed to look loopy?

“B-quick!” He hears Konoha shout and his mind snapped. He tosses the ball towards him but curses as the ball arcs dangerously in mid-air. It’s going to fall short. Konoha was quick to adjust. He leaped and curved sideways so that he could spike a cross rather than a straight that was intended.

The opposing team receives it easily though. Akaashi gives Konoha an apologetic look but the other waves it off good-heartedly. Pull yourself together. Akaashi mentally chides himself.

Where Akaashi’s errors were ignored in the first set, they were slightly frowned upon on the second. And for good reason, seeing as his tosses and receives were alarmingly off.

“That’s the tenth missed toss, Akaashi. I know you’re smart enough to have realized those mistakes already but you’re improving no less than that first missed serve.” The second year cringed at the stern voice of Takeyuki. It was bad enough he’s aware of his own screw-ups and couldn’t seem to fix them. It’s worse if it’s pointed out at him by their coach openly.

“You okay, Akaashi?” Sarukui asked, worried. “It’s not like you to keep on making the same mistakes.”

“I know. I’m fine. Don’t worry, senpai.”

“You sure? You look paler than usual.”

And I feel worse than normal. “I’m fine,” he assures him again. “I just feel light-headed but it’s going away now.”

Sarukui dropped it, fortunately. Akaashi couldn’t think of lying for another minute because he does feel like absolute crap. Like his intestines were trying to crawl out of his mouth yearning for the floor. His head was buzzing like a beehive and he felt he was strangely in a sauna.

“Chance ball.” Someone yelled. Akaashi sees the ball flying at him and raises his hand to catch it. He blinked, suddenly puzzled. Why are there two balls falling on me? He muses no further, for he feels a solid impact hitting him square on the face—that fuckin hurt!—and sending him sprawling on the floor, hard.

“Akaashi!” There were a flurry of yells and footsteps.

The setter didn’t respond for at the moment all he can contemplate is how hurting he horribly feels. He curled unconsciously. There was an immense stinging in his face and the headache—god, it was ten times worse than migraine’s from late night studying.

A hand finds his shoulder. “Akaashi,” the concerned voice of their coach disturbs him, “Akaashi, are you all right?”

“Akaashi…” It was Bokuto’s voice, and that somehow anchored Akaashi back to reality. He groaned a response.

Relief flooded out of his team’s system. “Akaashi, are you okay?” Takeyuki asked again.

Akaashi nods, hands still covering his face. “Ow.”

“What happened?” Kaori asked as Yukie came running back with a small med kit.

“I got hit by two balls.” He explained simply and blankly.

Bokuto laughed and was hit at the back of the head by Komi.

“Two ba—“ He feels a palm on his neck. It’s like someone’s choking him but it was just their coach feeling his skin. “You’re warm.” His eyes narrowed threateningly. “Are you sick?”

Well, damn. Akaashi hadn’t reached that conclusion ‘till now. True, he felt somewhat shitty, but otherwise he could still put one foot in front of the other. That doesn’t count as being ill, right? “I’m…I don’t know…Am I?”

This time a hand touched his cheek. It startled him so much he peeked at the spaces between his fingers. “You’re hot.” Bokuto said absent-mindedly.

“Not the proper time for that, Bokuto.” Sarukui chastised their captain gently.

“But he is. He’s hot.” Akaashi would’ve rolled his eyes at his naïve insistence but it was effort enough to raise his head and answer back.

“Be quiet, Bokuto-san. You’re making my head spin.” He unfurls from his fetal position and the entire gym gasped.  
“You’re bleeding!” Bokuto, with a more panicked tone said as he trapped Akaashi between his arms and inched closer to get a proper look. Akaashi blushed. But thank god he can blame the fever for that. “You have a cut on your head.” Small blood trickled down his hairline and smudged his left eye.  
“No, don’t touch it.” Yukie cried as Akaashi brought a hand to wipe the blood off. His forearm was suddenly gripped tightly.  
“Uhm, Bokuto-san—“

“Yukie-chan said not to, Akaashi. Just stay still while she cleans it for you.” Bokuto instructed casually. His grip remained firm on his arm and the gesture brought the white-haired alarmingly closer than necessary. Too close. Bokuto’s breath ghosted over Akaashi’s cheek and it sent him involuntary shivers.

“This is why I always remind you to show up at practice in top-shape and to always be alert and cautious as to avoid accidents and incidents like this. You may say this might just be training but a lot can happen due to poor concentration and small distractions.” He shook his head as Akaashi dipped his head regrettably. “And you know better than to attend today when you’re body’s practically fuming. It’s fortunate you didn’t faint with the strain.” He sighed consolably. “That, and because the school’s Infirmary is way out on the other side of campus.”

“We’ll be halfway writing down our will and testament before we’d get to step and smell antiseptics.” Wataru joked.

Yukie stuck plasters on Akaashi’s forehead. It eased the wound but not his feverish state. He groaned, louder this time as a wave of dizziness washes over him.

“Somebody get him off the ground and to the infirmary immediately.” The coach ordered.

Bokuto, unsurprisingly volunteered. He latches around Akaashi’s legs and coils an arm over his shoulders. “Up we go, Akaashi.”

The movement jostled the nausea occupying at the pit of Akaashi’s stomach. It took all his willpower to not vomit on spot, to not vomit on Bokuto. He covered his mouth and scrunched his eyes shut. The white-haired sees this as his cue to hurry him over. He jogs, not minding at all the body of their setter in his arms as he exited the gym.

Fukurodani Academy is huge. It’s one of the most prominent schools in Tokyo after all. It has nice architecture but the engineers probably had poor landscape abilities since most of the buildings were erected too far from each other. Take the gym for example. It’s about 500 meters away from the school clinic that athletes who suffer from any sports-related injuries are rushed Usain bolt speed style or wheeled by a small ambulance. The vehicle was absent so Bokuto had to make the demeaning journey by foot. Thankfully, the setter weighed like a sack of feathers so the trek was easier.

Akaashi squirmed in his arms. “B-Bokuto-san, slow down…”

“What?” Bokuto didn’t look down at him, just continued running so he could deliver Akaashi and have him checked upon quickly.  
“Stop running.” Followed by a strong clutch at his jersey.

Bokuto halted. “Akaashi?” The boy was visibly in pain, massaging his temples. His brows furrowed in worry. “Akaashi, what’s wrong?”

His lashes fluttered open slowly. “I’m dizzy…please…stop moving…for a minute…” The cloth wrinkled under his hand but Bokuto couldn’t care less. Making Akaashi feel better was top priority.

“Okay.” He stood motionlessly, giving him the time to recuperate. “Okay?” Akaashi nods lightly, his head scraping at his chest where he’d lay.

That tickles, Bokuto refrained from commenting out loud. With profound arm power, he held Akaashi up by the buttocks and slid his free hand to untangle the one on his shirt. He didn’t let go, squeezing his hand as he resumed his former position of carrying him bridal style and continued, this time walking.

The trip that was supposed to be short turned long.  
Bokuto took his sweet time as to not make Akaashi uncomfortable with his rash antics anymore.  
There’s an ulterior motive, as it was not every day he could have the meek setter in his arms like this. He wanted to stretch out this moment for as long he can.

There was a single nurse on duty when he arrived at the clinic.  
She spots them entering. “Oh dear, what happened?”

“He has a fever. And a cut on the forehead after being hit by a volley ball.” Bokuto says.

The nurse nodded and directs him to an empty bed space with opened curtains. She worked on him smoothly; taking his temperature, washing him, and cleansing his wound once more.

“You’ll be fine now. The temperature’s not that high but it’s above normal too.” She said after having Akaashi take some Aspirin. She fixes her stuff as a rough cough escapes the patient on the bed.

“Akaashi.” Bokuto assists him as he bends to wheeze. He beats the nurse from taking the glass of water and offered it to him, a hand protectively behind to support him should he fall over.

The nurse smiled. “You’re rendering me useless here, Kotaru-kun.”

“Ahh gomen, gomen.” Bokuto laughed but frowned just as quick when Akaashi once more began coughing.

“That’s a regular symptom for someone with a fever so don’t worry. For now, he needs some sleep.” The nurse assured him. She hands him a cooling pad. “You may place that on his forehead to help in decreasing the heat. Are you going back to practice?”

“Yeah, I guess, after I make sure Akaashi’s okay.” He takes the pad and tears it open.

“He is. I’ll watch over him.”

“Thank you, nurse-chan.”

She smiled once more before turning to leave. Bokuto carefully sticks the pad on Akaashi’s forehead.

“Ah, sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once Akaashi opened his golden eyes.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Akaashi blinked, trying to get a clear view of the room. “We’re in the clinic?”

“Yeah. I brought you over. Are you okay now?” He pressed his fingers on his cheek. “You’re still warm.”

“Mmm. That’s because you won’t magically heal after taking just one pill, Bokuto-san.”

“Of course, of course.” His hand caressed the side of his face.

It took Akaashi the last shred of his logic to try and understand what Bokuto was doing. And it took all the last of his self-control to force down the blush about to spread on his face. Again. “Your hand is cold.”

Bokuto smiled. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He leans further into the touch, not wanting the warmth to vanish. “Rather, it’s the opposite.”

The heat spread to both side of his face and he opened his eyes to see that Bokuto had cupped both his cheeks with his hands.

“Is that comfortable?”

“Y-yes…”

His thumb slides up and down, tickling Akaashi a bit. “Does that?”

“Yes.”

He leaned closer and rubbed his nose with his. “How about this?”

Akaashi gulped. “Yes.”

Fire spread into him like a furnace. Not because of the fever but because Bokuto’s lips were on his. It’s burning— his body, his skin, his heart. Bokuto’s lips were cold, like his hand. And it soothed him so.

“And that?” Bokuto pulled back enough to ask. He was smirking and Akaashi gave him an unimpressed look despite feeling like there were fireworks in his chest.

“That wasn’t so satisfactory that it could rid me of my feverish state.” He said sarcastically.

Bokuto chuckled. “You liked it, didn’t you?” He nuzzled the crook of his neck. “You like it.”

Akaashi gasped lowly as Bokuto lightly nipped at it. “Please, don’t tease me.”

“Sorry. Can’t help it. You’re just too adorable when you’re sick.”  
“It’s exactly that I’m sick so you—ngh!”

Bokuto kissed the junction between his neck and shoulder. He proceeded to pepper small kisses there, to his collarbone then to his shoulder blades. Akaashi couldn’t help it. He moaned.

Bokuto stopped his intimate ministrations and stared at him.

Akaashi’s eyes grew wide. I made that sound? Me? Fuck.

“You’re turned on.” Bokuto said, almost too giddily.

“Whose fault is that? You’re cruel. This is abuse. You’re taking advantage of me.” Akaashi said defensively.

“You’re blushing.” His face was indeed turning tomato.

“It’s the fever. That’s explainable.” Akaashi whipped his head to the side, not quite successful in making that sound defiant. "Anyhow, you better get back to practice, Bokuto-san or coach will—“

Bokuto kissed him again. That expectedly shut him up. He felt Bokuto’s tongue force his way in and Akaashi opened his mouth to allow it. He kissed him deep and hard. Akaashi went limp under him while Bokuto held him firmly.

He didn’t stop kissing him. Not even when Bokuto removed both his hands to place it beside his temples and climb up the bed. That shocked Akaashi. He withdrew with an audible pop.

“Bokuto-san, what are you doing?” He whisper-yelled.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The white-haired grinned cheekily. It didn’t faze him one bit about what Akaashi was implying.

“Are you out of your mind?” Akaashi’s hands were pushed to his sides and secured by Bokuto’s. He was pinning him and oh kami, Akaashi knew what was about to happen. “Are you even listening to me? The nurse is just right there.”

That seemed to stun Bokuto.  
He raised himself to peek out if they were noticed by the single occupant of the clinic. When it seemed like they weren’t, he pulled the curtains noiselessly and looked back down at Akaashi hungrily.

“Well then, you’ll just have to be quiet, Akaashi. You can manage that, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> First post. Not my first work though ;-)


End file.
